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Mar 13 Intro 4: "Remember Me"

The following is the beginning of my most controversial published story (to date). I'm going to save the description until after the intro, so read on;

Remember Me

Alex Azar

Monday January 3rd 2011, 3:03 AM

Martin Jackson Jr., the star wide receiver for the Philadelphia Bald Eagles, is used to running these streets of his hometown, but when he was a youth and not so late at night. Now he’s running for his life as he’s chased by a bald madman wearing glasses, who is steering a horse drawn stagecoach. The chase started after Martin’s car was forced off the B.F. Turnpike by the wagon. Something apparently no other drivers seemed to notice.

After slipping on some fresh snow, the chase has ended for Martin and his pursuer. The metal rimmed wheel of the stagecoach runs over Martin’s lower back, cutting all synaptic communication to his legs. After running the football player over the horse circles around only to trample his neck, sending agonizing pain throughout his body before all feeling leaves his body.

Standing over Martin’s limp body the bald man raises his walking stick and shouts, “Remember me!” before beating in Martin’s head; the hit smashes his nose, and sends bone shards into his brain. The second blow ruptures his right eye socket, bursting his eye with it. The third, and ultimately final, strike caves in Martin’s skull, ending the pain he was unable to emote.

The bald man rides away on his stagecoach after placing a bouquet of small purple flowers. The wagon disappears into the night leaving behind no tracks.

“It’s a damn shame.” Detective Colyn Whyte proclaims as he watches the football star bagged and loaded in the coroner’s van.

Shocked at his partner’s uncharacteristic emotional display, no matter how minor, Detective Kevin Shepps agrees, “Yea, the kid was young, he had a great career in front of him. When I was still a beat cop he was a kid growing up in these parts. He kept his nose clean, but always hung with some regular juvies; he could have gone down a bad path.”

“Huh? Yea that and I had five hundred on Sunday’s game. They’re sure to lose without him, and that’s if they even play.”

Disgruntled at Whyte’s amoral response, “You always have a knack for making things about you.”

“Blow me cupcake. Round up all traffic surveillance footage in a mile radius from here and also where his car was located. God night, and give Jeff a kiss for me.”

“Fuck you.”

***

That Friday Detectives Whyte and Shepps are on the defensive from the verbal attack of their lieutenant. “I’m telling you this murder makes no sense. It was a cold case before the snow covered up his blood. We’ve got no footage from the area Jackson’s body was found, and street surveillance by his car shows him erratically driving off the shoulder, and then him inexplicably running away.”

“Listen Whyte, we need to wrap this yesterday. We’ve got a star athlete who grew up on these streets, went to college here and played pro-ball here, perceived as a role model the whole while. Philly doesn’t get these kinds of legacy celebrities, and now the media is up my ass to get this in the books.”

Detective Shepps decides to chime in, not so much to support his partner, but so the lieutenant would remember he’s in the room also, “But lieutenant Colyn’s right. Even the tox report came back clean.”

Shepps’ plan back fires as the lieutenant does turn his attention to him, and scolds “Shut up Shepps. I don’t know why you’re still with this guy, but don’t drown in his shit.”

Most of the weekend passes with little communication between the partners. Kevin spent the majority of it with his life partner trying to figure out his next move professionally. What the lieutenant said made him reevaluate his career and current rank of gay stereotype underappreciated sidekick to Colyn, the precinct wash up.

“Honey, if you’re career is at a standstill, you need to request a transfer. From what the lieutenant said, it seems like he’d understand and grant it.”

Resting his head in Jeff’s lap Kevin looks up and with concern replies, “But if I can’t close this Jackson murder, I’ll never get assigned a real case again.” The half hour conversation continues cyclically for another fifteen minutes before the two go to bed. Unfortunately, sleep doesn’t easily come to Kevin’s worried mind.

The same can’t be said for Colyn, who was aided to a dreamless slumber by a fifth of Jack, a routine of his that’s repeated most nights of the week.

***

Monday January 10th 2011, 4:12 PM

John Luther Briggs Jr., the youngest African American senator ever has taken the day to spend with his daughters, who are currently flying kites in Franklin Park on this record breaking warm day. A day made more special following so soon after the recent snow storm. “Girls careful your lines are going to get tangled.” Sure enough moments later the kites form a single entwined braid. The wind picks up tugging the strings out of Sue and Linda’s hands. Quickly grabbing hold, John Luther prevents the kites from flying away. Trying to untangle the airborne toys he doesn’t realize the twin twine lines have begun to wrap around him.

...

If you want to read about what happens to John Luther Briggs Jr., and what caused Martin Jackson Jr's untimely demise, or why one story has three Juniors in it (yes there's a third) buy the anthology Obsession from Static Movement Press pick it up at Amazon.com.

Several years ago there was a call for submissions, from a now defunct publisher, asking for gory horror stories related to a holiday, the more obscure the holiday the better. I looked at a calender of all the holidays and found that two holidays were on the same day that year, 2011, so I decided to write a story about both. Telling you which two holidays they are will give away certain details about the story and the mystery surrounding the deaths. So pick up the book and find out what the holidays have to do with a dead white guy, dying black guys, a talent-less detective, and a transvestite that has a bigger secret than one might think.

Alex is an author bred, born, and raised in New Jersey. He had aspirations beyond his humble beginnings, goals that would take him to the skyscrappers of Metropolis and the alleys of Gotham. Alex was going to be a superhero. Then one tragic day, tragedy tragically struck. He remembered he wasn't an orphan and by law would only be able to become a sidekick. For now Alex bides his time writing about the heroes he would one day become, once he can rectify that pesky parent problem. Follow his scheming, mechinations, and writings at www.azarrising.com, as well as his horror movie review series the Macabre Movie Mausoleum, and various comic-related pieces in The Think Tank.

Alex is an author bred, born, and raised in New Jersey. He had aspirations beyond his humble beginnings, goals that would take him to the skyscrappers of Metropolis and the alleys of Gotham. Alex was going to be a superhero. Then one tragic day, tragedy tragically struck. He remembered he wasn't an orphan and by law would only be able to become a sidekick. For now Alex bides his time writing about the heroes he would one day become, once he can rectify that pesky parent problem. Follow his scheming, mechinations, and writings at www.azarrising.com, as well as his horror movie review series the Macabre Movie Mausoleum, and various comic-related pieces in The Think Tank.